


069. business trip

by Fiorrella



Series: 101 Fluffy YohaRiko Prompts [1]
Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 15:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiorrella/pseuds/Fiorrella
Summary: In all the romance doujins Riko had ever read, the first thing on a character's mind after returning from a trip was typically the anticipation of reuniting with their lover.Riko's?'God, I hope Yocchan hasn't torn up the house'.





	069. business trip

**Author's Note:**

> warning: i know jackshit about actual professional pianists.

To become a well-honed pianist, it was widely accepted that one must sacrifice any remains of their social life.

There was no such thing as a break in the music world, after all -- it was _rubato_ ; constantly changing and fusing and slipping through your fingers before you would even notice. Timing was important to performers, and not just in the musical sense.

Riko was certainly mindful of that fact - how could she _not_ be, what with her parents drilling it into her at every opportunity? - and as such, practised every bit as diligently as she had been taught to do. However, unlike the vast majority of other aspiring musicians she had met, Riko put just as much effort into her social bonds.

Well, she _thought_ she did -- she still was forced to cancel on most group outings, and she grew quite antsy between long periods of time without practicing, but her close friendships maintained strong. Although, perhaps, that was also due to the nature of her friends; while some of them were a bit... strange, they were much more understanding and supportive than she could ever have hoped for. She was lucky to have them.

She was also lucky to have a girlfriend as relaxed as Yoshiko. Well, maybe not _relaxed_ (Riko had discovered her restlessly pacing up and down their apartment more times than she could count) but out of the two, Riko was certainly the one who'd suggest going out first. While they had pretty much completely opposite personalities, both of them were content just basking in each other's presence. It was the pinnacle of stability, and Riko considered that a blessing. She hoped Yoshiko agreed.

Sometimes though, music dragged her away from that serenity. This day - no, this past _week_ \- was a perfect example of that.

Riko sighed, pulling the beret down tighter around her head. She was in a taxi - a _Japanese_ taxi, thank goodness! -, returning from her exhausting stay in England. At first, she'd scoffed at the thought of spending a whole _week_ in another country despite performing on only one day, but gosh, she was glad she went early. Her performance had gone fairly well, but Riko wasn't sure if that would've been the case had she not had a few days to rest.

She had plugged her headphones in, but she paid little to no attention to the music. Instead, she stared out of the window, restlessly tapping her finger against the leather chair. Yoshiko's ears had practically flattened when Riko first told her about her business trip, and although she'd acted nonchalant when they'd sent each other off, Riko could read her like a book; Yoshiko’s mouth twitched when she was hiding something, and her mouth didn't stay still for even a second at the airport. Besides, those erratic messages she’d received every hour had to mean _something_.

“I hope she's okay,” Riko whispered to the window, fingers tightening around the seat. _'Rather, I hope the house is okay...Yocchan’s never been the best at housework.’_

The taxi driver grunted questioningly and Riko started, her cheeks darkening. “A-ah, nothing,” she hastily waved her hands. Her eyes narrowed, and she determinedly gazed back out of the window, pulling the hem of her beret over her pink ears.

It took some time - the drive from Tokyo’s airport to Numazu took a dishearteningly long time - but the scenery became more and more familiar until Riko was almost out of her seat in anticipation. Her face brightened at the sight of her apartment complex, and her seatbelt was off before the car could even pull up.

“We're here,” the driver looked back at her with raised eyebrows. “Want some help with the luggage?”

“No thank you. I only have one suitcase so I should be fine,” Riko smiled timidly. She fished out the money she had prepared from her purse and handed it over. Within minutes, she had dragged both herself and her luggage out of the car, and was striding over to the doors of her apartment complex.

‘ _I should start working out,’_ she reflected idly as she boarded the elevator, noting how she was already out of breath, but the thought of her precious kitchen and - god forbid - her beautiful, prized _grand piano_ in ruins quickly pulled her back into reality. Of course, so did the thought of seeing her girlfriend after a week of simple texts, but the romantics could wait for later -- she had to confirm the safety of her house first.

The elevator doors slid open to the floor she lived in, and after triple checking she had the right apartment (she had knocked on the wrong one more times than she’d care to admit), she hesitantly rang the bell.

Almost instantly, a loud thud echoed from behind the door, followed by a rather disturbing crash. Riko cringed. That had better not have happened _anywhere_ next to her piano...

She flinched as the door swung open, revealing a cranky looking Yoshiko. By now, the seeds of worry had already started growing in Riko’s mind, and that process only hastened as she took in her girlfriend’s bagged eyes and crumpled pyjamas.

“Hi, Yocchan,” Riko rubbed her forehead nervously. She pulled her suitcase into the entrance and shut the door behind her before turning back around to continue damage control. “You okay?”

Yoshiko stared back at her, mouth agape. “You’re home?" she asked, tilting her head like a lost puppy.

Riko’s brow furrowed momentarily before softening. “Yeah,” she agreed, “I’m home.” She propped her suitcase up and held out her arms, just as Kanan had done many times before to the two of them. “Hug?” she offered.

Yoshiko nodded, mutely lifting her arms up. Riko smiled at that -- Yoshiko wasn’t the most physically affectionate person even in a relationship, so her shyly offering and accepting hugs never failed to lift her mood. She wrapped her arms around the other girl, burying her nose in her hair. Her mouth twitched up as she felt Yoshiko’s own arms quietly snake around her waist.

“Was it that bad?” Riko ventured after a moment of silence. “It was only a week…”

“ _‘Only’_ a week,” Yoshiko snorted, tightening her grip. “That’s…” her head bobbed slightly. “What’s twenty four times seven?”

Riko glanced up contemplatively for a second. “One hundred and sixty eight, I think.”

“One hundred and sixty eight hours,” Yoshiko finally looked up to deliver a weak glare. “One hundred and sixty eight hours without _you_.”

Riko was glad that Yoshiko lowered her head back down, because she was pretty sure her whole face had gone pink. “I’m home now,” she repeated. “Sorry. I’ll take you next time, okay?”

To her relief, Yoshiko seemed to perk up a little at that. She rubbed her girlfriend’s hair soothingly; as horrible as it sounded, she was glad to hear that she’d been missed. Still… She glanced around the corridor anxiously. The exterior looked fine, but seeing how distraught Yoshiko was, the damage done to the inside might be far worse than she’d expected, and the noises from earlier hadn’t sounded at all optimistic.

“Have you used the kitchen?” Riko tried to ask as amiably as possible but judging from the other girl’s pout, she hadn’t done a very good job.

“No, actually,” Yoshiko frowned and tugged at her sleeve, signalling that she wanted to be released.

Riko reluctantly untangled their limbs and took a small step back. “What have you been eating, then?”

Yoshiko chuckled dramatically, holding her hand to her face. “A fallen angel does not need to ea--” Riko glared at her, and she immediately dropped her arm. “...McDonald’s.” She had the decency to look at least _somewhat_ guilty.

Riko blinked at her, _“Every day?”_ She scowled as the other girl remained suspiciously silent, and surveyed her face; of course her mouth was twitching. “You’re not joking, are you,” she deadpanned.

With a pained squeak, Yoshiko clapped her hands together and bowed her head. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to cook anything!”

“Not even cup ramen?” Riko sighed disapprovingly. She made to remove the beret, but her girlfriend lurched forward and kept a steadfast hold on it. She let out a strangled grunt. “Wh-What is it?” Had all the McDonald’s gone to her head?

“Keep it on!” Yoshiko demanded, hand still clutching the beret to Riko’s head. “It looks cute!”

Riko stared at her. _‘My goodness, she really has gone crazy...’_  She shrugged, if only to satiate the other girl. “Alright.”

Yoshiko’s grip slackened contentedly.

“Not even cup ramen?”

“Agh, god!” Yoshiko pulled a face and lightly punched the side of her arm. “You don’t give up, do you?!”

“Not even cup ramen?” Riko repeated calmly.

Yoshiko glowered at her from beneath her eyelashes. “I’m tired of cup ramen,” she admitted reproachfully.

“Then, what about...what was it again?” Riko’s brow furrowed, trying to remember what Yoshiko’s signature…’meal’ was. _“‘Fallen Angel Droplets?’”_

 _“Tears of a Fallen Angel!”_ Yoshiko protested, balling her fists up passionately. “You banned tobacco sauce from the house, remember?"

Riko pulled a face. “Oh, so I did. Still; healthy meals are important, Yocchan,” she reprimanded, poking her square in the center of her nose. “Don’t eat McDonald’s every day.”

Yoshiko’s face wrinkled at that and she opened her mouth to argue, but Riko hastily strode past into the living room. She didn’t particularly want to get into a debate over the importance of healthy meals just _yet_. A quick look around confirmed that the room was in surprisingly good condition, sans the thin layer of dust coating the tabletop surfaces.

“Well done!” Riko smiled. _‘Why am I congratulating her on not trashing our living room...?'_

Apparently, Yoshiko had the same thought. “Why don’t you trust me?” she complained, kicking at the floor like a child.

“I do trust you,” Riko countered. “I trust you a lot. Just not with the living room.”

Yoshiko let out an indignant whine from behind her. “Hey, what about the piano room?” Riko perked up at that, and Yoshiko smirked knowingly, puffing out her chest. “I didn’t even touch it!” she declared proudly.

“Ah. Thanks,” Riko sighed in relief. She didn’t know _what_ she’d do if something happened to her grand piano. “So nothing’s broken or damaged?”

“Uh,” Yoshiko rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, and Riko’s smile immediately dropped.

Oh _no._

“The toilet may or may not be clogged,” she started cautiously, staring straight into the floorboards of the living room.

 _“What?”_ Riko demanded incredulously.

Yoshiko flushed and shifted onto her other foot, “I need to pee a lot when I get stressed, okay?! And besides--” she swept her arm out grandly, her mouth twitching the whole time, “it only happened just now, so it’s not _that_ bad!”

Riko sighed; she needed the toilet after that hellride of a trip, too. “Carry on.”

“I...I kind of broke a vase,” Yoshiko continued, scuffing her heel against the floor. “And some of the plates might be broken--”

“How many?” Riko interrupted.

“...Three?” Yoshiko offered slowly.

Riko nodded. “Okay. Anything else?”

“I, uh-- the truth is, I kind of tried to make toast today.”

“You did?” Riko prodded skeptically.

“Yeah. And the toaster’s, um,” she lowered her head shamefully, “jammed.”

Riko rubbed her temples. She could already feel a headache coming on. “That’s it?”

Yoshiko nodded guiltily. “I’m sorry, Riri,” she mumbled out, sounding uncharacteristically sincere.

Riko reached out and softly patted her girlfriend’s hair. “It’s okay,” she said. “I mean...yeah, this is going to be a pain to deal with, but its just as much as my fault as it is yours.”

The other girl raised her head in bewilderment, and it was only then that Riko realised - with a hard hitting pang of horror - that tears had been pooling in her eyes. Oh god -- when was the last time she had seen her cry? Had she sounded _that_ angry?

“Really?” Yoshiko sniffled, rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad!” Riko quickly reassured, grabbing her hand and threading their fingers together. “I definitely should have checked up on you more.” She tugged her girlfriend up from her slouch. “We can clean up everything tomorrow--” her bladder practically  _shook_ in protest, and she coughed uncomfortably. “Oh, but can you unclog the toilet for me? I, uh, kind of need it.”

Yoshiko had thankfully stopped crying by then, but she looked like she was about to burst into tears all over again. “I-I don’t know how…” she trailed off anxiously.

Riko hastily lifted their joined hands up. “That’s okay! I’ll unclog the toilet while you fill up the bath, okay?”

To her relief, Yoshiko complied and nodded. “Do you want me to use bath foam?”

“Your choice,” Riko waved her hand. “You can go first.”

Yoshiko’s mouth fell open, aghast. “You just came back from _England_.”

“Yocchan,” Riko frowned stubbornly. “I stayed at a four star hotel with a sauna. Looking at you now, I think I’ve bathed twice as much as you have this whole _month_.”

Yoshiko’s mouth finally turned up at that -- only a little, but it was something. She sniffled one last time into her arm, before rolling up the sleeves of her shirt and straightening up. “Did you mean it when you said you’d take me next time?”

“Well, I don’t know about a four star hotel and a sauna,” Riko admitted, “but I promise to take you next time."

“Really? You promise, Riri?” Yoshiko's eyes narrowed dubiously.

Riko chuckled sheepishly. "If I don't, who knows what will happen to our apartment?"

Yoshiko finally smiled at that -- she _properly_ smiled. "Let's go," she tightened her grip on Riko's hand. "Man, you need a bath -- you smell _awful_." Her words were devoid of venom and had regained her usual teasing lilt. 

For once, Riko willingly let herself be dragged away. Maybe being a pianist and a girlfriend at the same time wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i cant get this fic to flow for the life of me please just take it


End file.
